H O M E

H O M E 

Living abroad for eleven months of the year certainly makes you realize a lot of things upon return home.

Points of interest:

•     The weather in England isn’t as bad as you thought it was. In fact, it turns out to be warmer than it is in Tokyo (for February.)
•     The shopping (choice) sucks ass compared to Tokyo and it's safe to safe Manchester has one electrical shop in the city centre. 
•     Clothes shopping is cheaper in England. Nothing beats Tokyo for choice and originality though. London has better vintage finds. 
•     Starbucks in England are total cunts who charge you more to drink their shit, syrupy tea inside their unclean shop.
•     Necks have become the place of choice for chav chosen tattoos.
•     No matter how much you think you have changed your diet and become such a healthier eater, you’ll revert back to your old ways once you see gingerbread, egg custards (see below), Cadbury chocolate and God knows what else. 

•     The English will always drink like fishes and a night out with my English friends will always end in drunken carnage.
•      Tokyo is definitely my home now and I’m happy to say that.
• I break my digital camera everytime I come home. 
•      London is still my favourite city and somewhere I hope to live (at some point in my life.)
•      Friends don’t change and will always feel like I just saw them yesterday.
• I spend too much - but that's not really just when i come home unfortunately. 
•     I miss English humour. No one else greets their friends with 'hiya, get your cock out' amongst other things. 

I think overall though on this trip, I’ve learned to always look forward and never look back. The future has too much to offer me and everyone from my past who is present in my life will also move forward with me.  

I don't know how to feel about the last few days and the events that have gone on. Both here and away, it's like a domino effect of negativity.

To be sat at home with my friends now, in my local pub away from the big cities, the vibrant, extravagant looks, the wannabes scratching and screaming to be seen as the most original, inventive and creative. Sitting amongst real people, with nothing to hide, who have real stories etched on their faces.

To laugh and be understood instantly. To come home and have my parents glance round when I walk through the door. The usual joke about what I had been doing or who with or what was I thinking when I chose to wear what I did. I suppose that is happiness to me. As much as I usually tell myself it isn't, I always seem to fall back on it when I don't feel the best.